


frisson

by Anonymous



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: C'est la vie, M/M, Post-Episode Balance of Terror, Spock has a thing about Jim's captain voice, Yearning, just what bros do, pretty sure the room referenced here doesn't actually exist, realizing things, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28403898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Post-Balance of Terror. Spock muses on the performance of the captain under pressure.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Anonymous





	frisson

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write very often, but I really felt possessed to do this. My apologies if it is completely unintelligible but *new yorker voice* hey! i'm yearning here!

It had been a masterclass, Spock thought. In the hours after the destruction of the Romulan ship, the Enterprise was quiet, exhausted by battle and grief over the death of Tomlinson.

Spock paced in the observation deck. A masterclass in strategy and leadership. A procedural, almost, in how to face down the unknown with skill and confidence and then recognize and respect that unknown once identified. In all the areas where a method was established, the captain had not missed a step. Acknowledging the crew’s differing opinions on strategy and directing their fears towards reasoned strategy. Outmaneuvering the Romulan commander by assessing the relative strengths and weaknesses of his craft and the Enterprise. Offering to help, in the final moments, as Starfleet requires.

But it was not that alone, thought Spock, gazing out into space. The captain had not merely offered help - he had asked, as if the Romulan commander would be doing him a favor by accepting. That was beyond Starfleet training, beyond experience. That was Jim Kirk. The soft tone of the captain’s voice, barely above a mumble but with all the authority of a shout. That was Jim Kirk too.

Even his dealings with Stiles’ suspicion of Spock himself were above the call of any average captain. It was not unreasonable for Stiles to have seen a connection between two secretive races with startling physical similarities; indeed, the Romulan commander had looked more like Spock’s own father than he cared to admit. It was illogical to suspect him of aiding the Romulans, given that there had been no contact with them in nearly one hundred years, but Spock did not make the mistake of expecting humans to be logical. An average captain would have told Stiles to can it without fixing the issue, for the sake of bridge crew peace in a battle situation. A below-average captain would have removed one of them from duty, thereby eliminating the distraction but losing the crew’s trust in the process. Not Jim Kirk, however. Jim Kirk would not let bigotry go unremarked nor unpunished. And though logically Spock knew that addressing Stiles’ prejudices would benefit the cohesiveness of the ship in the long term, it did not stop a thrill, almost, a quivery sort of breath up his spine, at the thought of Jim Kirk defending him with nothing to support his position but the authority of his captaincy and his utmost trust in Spock.

He came to a halt in the center of the window. Standing in the deepest curve of the window, the stars surrounded him. Spock suppressed a shiver. This is why he was here, on this ship - to be able to stand among the stars, as close as possible without being fully equilibrated to the cold emptiness of space.

That same shiver arose again, only this time, at the thought of how close they had all come to death. He thought of his blunder, in creating a signal with which the Romulans were able to locate the ship. Never mind that he was making necessary repairs, it was a fault he should have avoided. It was the captain, again, who cleaned up this mess, ordering another attack on the Romulans before they could move into range. Ordering again, in that low way of his. Not so different, Spock pondered as he looked into space, from the way in which the captain usually spoke to him. It was resonant with the same timbre of faith, even a hint of his usual humor, yet lacking in something - something like a slow, careful warmth, something missing even when he spoke to Bones.

This was not a train of thought Spock was willing to finish. Casting one last look into the expanse, he turned on his heel to find none other than the captain himself, leaning against the doorframe.

“You should be resting, Mr. Spock,” he said with a half smile.

“I could say the same of you, Captain.”

Kirk shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and joined Spock at the window. “I found myself distracted by the events of today. And I wanted to check in, I suppose.” He swallowed, looking out into space, hands clasped behind his back.

Spock examined his profile, noting the exhaustion in his features. Turning back to the stars, he said “Is there something in particular you need to confirm… Jim?” Out of the corner of his eye, there again was that half smile from the captain.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. Oh I know, there’s no need for all that,” he said, catching Spock’s raised eyebrow in the reflection of the window. “It was a hard day for all of us, but you were the only one being accused of treachery today.” Kirk abruptly spun to face Spock, earnestness in every facet of his being. “I want you to know that I never doubted you, not for a second.“

Spock turned and inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, masking the twisting feeling in his stomach at those words. “I am appreciative of that fact.” He took a breath and met Kirk’s steady gaze. “Although unnecessary, I am also appreciative of your defense of my character against Mr. Stiles.”

Kirk searched his face. “It was necessary, Mr. Spock,” he said quietly, firmly. “And perhaps even more necessary than in the case of any other crew member. Besides, I find myself taking insults to your character quite personally.”

“That is illogical, Jim.”

“Maybe so, Spock,” he said, drawing nearer and gently, slowly clasping Spock’s arms. “I just don’t know what I can do about it.”

Spock tensed, unable to resist the flush of heat that seemed to emanate from the place where Kirk’s hands covered his biceps. Kirk dropped his eyes. Spock stared at his face, wondering for how long his captain’s features had been categorized with that of his mother’s - important, special, dear - instead of with those of the rest of the Enterprise’s crew.

Cautiously, Spock brought his hands to Kirk’s covered forearms, thumbs to the inside of Kirk’s wrists. Kirk looked up, his eyes uncertain and molten in the light of the stars surrounding them. His hands moved to Spock’s shoulders, then to his face. They stood, breathing in sync, eyes locked.

“Your move, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said softly.

The thrill along Spock’s spine, the one he had been unsuccessfully ignoring all day - for years now, if he was honest with himself - hummed. He felt like a phaser locked to overload. Dropping his hands to Kirk’s waist, he pressed his lips to Kirk’s, carefully.

To his immense relief, Kirk kissed him back, pulling him down and pressing him against the window. Spock raised a hand to his own face and covered Kirk’s hand with his own. It felt like lightning, like that phaser had exploded once and for all.

After perhaps an eon, or perhaps seconds - Spock found his mental clock to be wildly inaccurate all of the sudden - they broke apart. They looked at each other. Spock noted the flush in Kirk’s cheeks and felt an irrational stab of pride at putting it there.

Kirk laughed. “We’re going to need to talk about it, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Spock managed.

Soon, they would have to untangle. Perhaps one would leave first, the other following, to preserve this newness just a little longer. But for now, with Jim Kirk resting against his chest, Spock turned to the stars, as if seeking an eyewitness to a dream. There it was.


End file.
